


tinged with gasoline (not ablaze yet)

by echelons



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Kissing Is An Acceptable Substitute For Talking About Feelings Right?, M/M, Uncanny X-Men #11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echelons/pseuds/echelons
Summary: “You still trying to martyr yourself? Dying didn’t do it for you?”or,Logan and Scott's reunion isn't what either of them wants.





	tinged with gasoline (not ablaze yet)

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Uncanny X-Men #11.

Logan steals a car, and Scott drives, because Scott always drives. They head south in the middle of the night, past mile after dark mile of trees whose bare branches scratch against the vault of heaven. Logan pretends to sleep in the passenger seat, his hat pulled down over his eyes, and Scott changes the radio station half a dozen times before he gives up and lets the silence stretch between them.

Scott’s on edge, Logan can tell. He’s fidgeting, and there’s an underlying nervousness to his every movement. The unease in the air is so thick Logan can almost smell it. Scott can probably tell that Logan is only feigning sleep, but he doesn’t say anything as the road unrolls in front of them.

Hours later, they stop for gas in some 24-hour place right off the highway. Logan stops pretending to be asleep so that he can hand Scott a few bills and ask him to buy some beer. Scott doesn’t ask where he got the cash, just slams the car door and disappears into the night.

When Scott gets back, he slides into the driver’s seat and then drops a six-pack on the floor of the backseat, within easy reach of Logan.

“Didn’t think you’d actually buy the booze,” Logan says.

“You’re easier to deal with when you’re drunk.” They both know it takes more than a measly six-pack to get Logan and his healing factor drunk. Scott turns the stolen car key over and over in his hand. He hasn’t put his seatbelt on. He smells faintly of gasoline, and Logan thinks how dangerous a spark would be, right now.

“Logan,” Scott’s got his Cyclops voice on, and in that voice there’s a sense of impending disaster, the inevitable explosion of fists and fury that is the natural consequence of their situation. Logan, wanting more than anything to avoid that, grabs Scott and kisses him.

It’s hard and awkward and not particularly nice, until Scott makes a noise in the back of his throat and shifts, sliding across the car until he’s in Logan’s lap. His hands fist in Logan’s shirt and this is familiar, the press of Scott against him, the taste of him, the weight of him. The last time they did this was years ago, and Cyclops and Wolverine were both still alive. Charles Xavier was still alive.

Scott pulls back, breathless, and when Logan runs a thumb over his lip, he bites it, just hard enough to hurt. Logan leans in and places his mouth against the pulse point where Scott’s neck meets his jawline.

“Don’t you hate me?” Scott whispers.

“What’s it to you?” Logan says, growling against Scott’s skin.

“You should hate me.”

“Fuck.” Logan pulls away from Scott but leaves his hands in their bruising grip around his hips. “You still trying to martyr yourself? Dying didn’t do it for you?”

“I’m just saying, maybe we should talk.” He looks resigned to his fate, like a man going to the gallows for a crime he repents but cannot take back, and the stoicism in his face makes something like rage twist deep within Logan’s gut. If they start talking, Logan knows, things are going to get rougher than even he likes.

So he leans in and kisses Scott instead. “Shut up.”

“Logan.” Scott pushes back against him, putting as much space between them as possible, given their current position. “Stop.”

This time, Logan stays still, keeps his eyes fixed on Scott’s face.

“I just,” Scott sighs, and Logan can feel it because they’re still touching, Scott’s hands on Logan’s chest, Logan’s hands around Scott’s waist. “I just want to know what the fuck you’re doing.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “I thought it was pretty damn clear.”

“You hate me,” Scott says, and this time it’s not a question, and maybe it’s the certainty in Scott’s tone that makes Logan tell the truth.

“Yes. I trusted you." He says, and he's still got his gaze locked on Scott. "I trusted you like I’ve never trusted anybody, and look how you repaid me. You betrayed me. Turned your back on me, turned your back on all of us. I hate you for that, sure.”

“Then why-”

Logan cuts him off. “Because you’re here, Cyke, and so am I. We’re here, when we used to be _dead_ , and a more religious person would call that a miracle.”

“Is that enough?” Scott laughs, bitter. “Is that really enough for you?”

“Right now,” Logan says, “I think it has to be.”

After a moment, Scott leans down and kisses him again, more gently and more slowly than before. Logan’s hands slide up Scott’s back, wrapping around his fragile body, pulling him ever closer.


End file.
